Flying the Black Flag
by texasPanzer
Summary: The crew of the Ghost are given a simple smuggling mission to get supplies to the growing Rebel Fleet, but find that their mission is complicated by what they are carrying. They can't follow orders and go through with it when they find out what they're carrying, or else they become what they were supposed to be fighting against.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Star Wars Rebels. They are owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. I did create a few characters, so those are mine. I have rated this one Mature for violence and adult themes. This takes place sometime in Season 2.

The best part of being a smuggler-being paid. Worst part of being a rebel-trying to hide. It was difficult to do both at the same time. For the crew of the Ghost they had a streak of bad luck and were now trying to lay low on Lothal by hiding in plain sight. But they couldn't stay hidden forever. Like any crew they needed food, fuel, and supplies and those cost credits and they could only get credits if they did missions or they stole it, but it was better to run missions. The best place for them to look for jobs was Old Jho's Pit Stop run by Old Jho. But on this mission, their luck was about to run out.

Kanan sighed as he took his drink and slowly sipped the cold contents. Placing the cup back down he grunted in frustration, "I'm not asking for anything serious, Old Jho. Just a job that gives us enough credits to keep us going, you know? Fuel in the Ghost and grub in our bellies."

Old Jho was cleaning the counter with a wet rag. He wanted to help Kanan, but there simply no jobs for them to do. "The Imperial presence was so heavy that most of the smugglers had left the planet and driven those left into hiding." Kanan was about to give up and return back to the Ghost to look for another way, perhaps there was a supply cache or an Imperial depot somewhere that needed to be raided. Supplies there could be useful to the Rebel Cause, but that also put them at risk. Their frequent raids were the reason the Imperials have so many troops in garrison on the surface and Star Destroyers in orbit. There had to be another mission somewhere, one that could take them away from this place for a while. Old Jho saw Kanan turned to leave, his head hung low in shame. However, the Ithorian wasn't telling the full truth. There was a mission, a simple mission worthy of a smuggler to try and run through the gauntlet of Imperial ships, but Old Jho was reluctant to inform his friend Kanan of this because-it didn't feel right. But seeing as Kanan and the crew of the Ghost were suffering, "Hold on..." waving Kanan to come back. When he did, Old Jho leaned over the bar so that their voices couldn't be heard. "There is one," Jho whispered then pointed over Kanan's armored right shoulder, "See that guy over there?" to a figure sitting in the corner on the far side of the cantina, "He's been here for the past five cycles looking for someone to help smuggle some crates to the Rebels."

Kanan turned his head around quickly, caught a glimpse of the man he was referring to sitting in a dark corner rather stiff in his seat, then his gaze came back to his friend, "For the past five cycles?" Kanan whispered annoyed, "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"Because," Jho said, "There's something about that guy I don't like."

Gritting his teeth Kanan asked, "You think he's Imperial?"

"I don't think so," Jho replied calmly, "But there's definitely something about him, something I don't like. I tried to pawn off another smuggler on him, but that guy turned him down immediately. It's as if he's waiting for you. I know you need the mission and the credits..."

Kanan appreciated the feelings of his friend as he finished his drink and placed the last credits he had in his pocket onto the bar, "Thanks, my friend." He turned towards the stranger sitting in the corner and casually walked that way. In his brief journey he walked past the captain of the Ghost, the green Twi'lek, and his close friend Hera. A gentle touch of the shoulder told her that something was up. Hera stood up slowly and followed behind Kanan, unknown what is happening, but her eyes quickly connected to the man sitting in the shadows and felt her skin begin to crawl.

"Good afternoon" Kanan said when he reached the table, "I understand you're looking for help, yes?" putting up a friendly face, his tone upbeat to keep the man at ease. This allowed him to see the man up close and relaxed. He was human in appearance with fair skin, dark oval eyes with slicked back brown hair wearing a black uniform that looked almost Imperial with black leather gloves and a haversack on his right hip.

"Please, sit" the stranger said holding out a palm up hand towards the empty chairs across the table from him.

Both Hera and Kanan did so, their eyes caught each other, both were uneasy about going in, but kept going. "I was told that you needed to move some cargo," tip-toeing around mentioning the contents.

"Yes," the man replied with a single nod. His dark eyes looked at Hera and then back at Kanan, "I have a lot of cargo that I need to get to the rebellion. They are expecting me, but I do not have a ship nor the experience to get them past the Imperials."

"You know of the rebellion?" Hera whispered intrigued. She felt that the spark of rebellion was spreading more every day.

"Indeed," the man replied. "I am friends with Commander Sato. He leads the Phoenix Group. He's my contact. He's the one I need to get these to," before holding up a single finger to them under a strict condition, "With no questions asked."

"Yeah," Hera nodded while leaning back in her seat, "Well, it's going to cost you. 'No questions asked' costs even more," with a smile on her lips.

"I'm willing to pay..." the stranger nodded began. He sat there with little emotion on his face. It was strange. Hera and Kanan looked at him unable to read him. He looked almost robotic in his movements and speaking. "If you get the cargo there as fast as possible."

"We can certainly arrange that. We have a fast ship," Hera nodded confidently. "Now, about the price..."

"Twenty-thousand" the man said immediately. "Ten thousand up front and another ten when the cargo reaches its destination, unspoiled."

Twenty-thousand? It seemed unreal. That's the highest someone has ever paid for a single mission. It was too high. Kanan suspected something was up as the two of them looked at him with eyes. He studied the man carefully, but the stranger showed nothing; he wasn't showing any signs of nervousness, avoiding eye contact, twitching hands, or brushing his hair with his hands, anger, or even that he had gas in his stomach. He just stared back at Kanan with these dark brown eyes and did nothing but blink.

"Hold on," Kanan said raising up a hand, "This doesn't feel right. Who are you? Who are you with?"

"I am Miles Dunn," the man said. "You may call me, 'Mr. Dunn'. I used to work in a weapons factory for the Republic, when it was still 'the Republic'. When the Empire took over, I and many of my fellow workers, dismantled the factory and carted off the equipment to keep it out of their hands. I had tried to remain hidden here on Lothal since that time under the guise of a simple farmer, but now with the increasing Imperial strength, I feel I must get all of this to the right hands or else everything I have saved up for will be lost." For a man working during the time of the Republic, he didn't look old at all. He looked almost 18 or so with smooth facial cheeks, no bags under the eyes, no wrinkles and hands that had no callouses, cuts, or blemishes for a man claiming to be a factory worker.

Kanan continued to study the man. Now he was seeing something. There was now emotion. In those dark eyes there was a glimmer of something, there was a feeling there. He wasn't a droid or some infiltration unit, but a man trying to do good from a life time of darkness. "Fine. We'll do it," Kanan replied placing both hands on the table, "We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Meet us in docking bay 94".

"94" Mr. Dunn nodded. He slowly stood up and bowed slightly towards the two before reaching inside his black coat and placed a large square container on the table, slid it half way across before departing the place without another word. When he was gone, Hera and Kanan looked at one another with furrowed eyebrows. Was it real? Was it a trick? Was it a dream? They picked up the container, it was heavy. Inside were 10,000 real credits. "Holy smokes!" Hera gasped as she saw it, "You think he's on the up and up?" looking at the gold credit chips and then up at the still worried Kanan.

"I hope so" Kanan whispered.

Back at the Ghost, the crew were preparing for Mr. Dunn's arrival. With the credits they were able to refuel the ship and replenish their depleted supplies, plus a few things extra. It was like a holiday for them, the crew were happy to not only have a lot of food and drink, but also enough for Sabine to gain more art supplies and Hera could upgrade the computers and get spare parts. Chopper was going crazy with all of the upgrades uploading data into the computers that he was running constantly back and forth in the cockpit and spinning in place with his small arms out. Hera wasn't going into this mission blind. She sent a secure message to Commander Sato asking if he knew of this 'Mr. Dunn'. To her surprise, he said yes.

"I knew of him many years ago. I'm surprised he's still alive. He always led a hard and dangerous life. But, I know him to be honest and fair. I had been in contact with him over a month or so ago saying he had supplies he wanted us to have, but had to lay low until he could find a reliable ship to get them off world."

"That would be us, commander" Hera smiled.

"If you're the ones doing it, then I have no worries. Safe journey," Commander Sato closed.

Hera called for Kanan into the cockpit to give him the news. She leaned back in her seat with her arms crossed in front of her chest, "Well, it looks like our mystery man really does exist. Commander Sato just vouched for him." But even that didn't put him at ease.

As delighted as Ezra was about this mission and the extra credits, he couldn't help but notice that Kanan was uneasy. The former Jedi padawan stood outside the Ghost by the main ramp with his arms crossed in front of his chest staring at the only door into the bay. Ezra walked over to him with his usual smile and waved a hand, "Come on, Kanan. If you think something's wrong, why don't you use the Force to tap into his mind and figure out what he's thinking?"

"I would," Kanan replied annoyed, "But that's not the way. Let's see what he's up to before we do anything like that." In truth, when he was staring at Mr. Dunn, Kanan had tried to use the Force, but got nothing back. His senses felt nothing, but he said nothing to Ezra or else Ezra would lose confidence in him to teach the ways of the Jedi.

There wasn't a time for their meeting, but the longer they waited the more Kanan suspected that the Imperials would enter the bay and they would be forced to flee. At least they had the credits. Finally, the door to the bay beeped and Sabine opened the door showing the tall Mr. Dunn standing there with a stiff back in his black attire and behind him were the crates all on gravity lifters. Sabine wasn't hearing her helmet so her colorful hair stood out, but she was also wearing her colorful body armor. "Hello," she smiled, "You must be Mr. Dunn."

Dunn's eyes looked her over carefully before stepping in, "You must be Mandalorian," he said in a low voice, but not in disrespect. "I must say, I do find that such a person on this mission would yield satisfying results."

Sabine chuckled to keep him buttered up, "We aim to please! Kanan is over there by the ramp, if you wish to speak with him."

"That is unnecessary," Mr. Dunn said. "I came to ensure the cargo is delivered and to give you this," handing a small data-chip to her. "These are the updated coordinates to your destination. Your boss, Kanan, knows of the plans. The other half will be waiting at your destination. I wish you good luck in your endeavors," giving a slight bow before walking away.

"Guess he doesn't like small talk," Sabine whispered to herself as she looked at the cargo. The crates were all square shaped measuring 4 by 4 feet, with a smooth surface all around, made of metal, and painted a dark gray color. They would need the grav-lifters as not even the robust Zeb could lift these crates. "Geez!" he grunted trying to heft one but couldn't make it budge an inch, "What's in these things, a star destroyer?" Giving up and resorting to the grav-lifters, Sabine called to Kanan that the cargo had been delivered. His heart rose a bit, but were dashed when he saw the crates. He stopped Zeb to look at what he was pushing and his lips frowned, "No labels?"

"Yeah," Zeb sighed, "And they weigh a ton each!" his right arm bent back behind him to rub his aching spine.

Kanan's eyes met Sabine when he asked, "He's gone?"

"Yep," she chirped, "Just dropped it off and left. Kanan, these are Cobalt Cases!"

"What are Cobalt Cases?" he replied looking at what she was pushing. They didn't look all the different from the other crates he's seen in his lifetime.

"They're rare, but they're crates that are also their own locks," said Sabine patting one of them. "They're designed to resist almost everything and they have tamper proof interiors. You try to cut your way in and it trips and the sensor and whatever inside is destroyed."

"Destroyed? How?" he asked.

"I'm not exactly sure how," Sabine shrugged, "That's what I've heard about them. What I do know is, there's a special key made for them, only one key, but it's not like your typical lock and key, it's a way to solve the puzzle. The crates are a puzzle; you have to solve the puzzle in order for it to unlock."

His eyes looked over the crates carefully. There was nothing unique about them outside of their dark, flat exterior. No keypads, locks, or braille to denote a place to touch, no piece boundaries. It left him scratching his head to which Sabine, who noticed how confused he was, chuckled slightly. "Guess this guy takes his privacy very seriously. Oh, and he also gave me this," handing over the data-chip, "He says they're the Fleet's coordinates for our rendezvous."

"Alright. Get the stuff on board so we can get out of here," Kanan said pointing towards the Ghost while he went out to get a few more.

Ezra ran over to the remaining crates and was surprised by all of them. It was an impressive haul. He counted every one of them and came up with 65 crates. "What do you think is in them?" Ezra asked as Kanan joined him.

"I don't know," his mentor replied shaking his head slightly, "But, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we get paid."

As the crates were being loaded, Hera sat in the cockpit prepping the Ghost for takeoff. There was a half-smile on her lips as she looked over the consoles as they lit up. The fuel tanks were full, the pantries were, too. She felt life in the machine and in her crew. Now they were back to doing what they did best. With their cargo squared away and secure, Hera did a head count and closed the ramp. With ease the Ghost lifted off, but didn't take directly off into space. Instead it flew low over Lothal and out into the plains beyond. With their sensor scrambler working they were able to jam the radar and other sensors the Imperials were using until a safe distance away, only then did they shoot for the heavens and into the blackness of space. In earlier missions they had remained well outside the space port, but with the increase in patrols outside, they were forced to try and hide in plain sight by mingling with the crowd.

"It's going to take a few jumps to get us to the Fleet," Hera said after Chopper, given the data-chip, programmed the coordinates into the Nav-Computer. "Chopper calculates it will take us at least five cycles."

At that moment Ezra joined her in the cockpit, "Only five? For such a mission, I thought it would take longer," in a tongue-in-cheek response.

"Yeah," she replied only half-jokingly, "It will be longer if the Imperials tighten their grip on Lothal." She couldn't look back but knew that Lothal was still there, still under the thumb of the Emperor. She had hope that what they were doing was right, doing such missions, trying to undermine the Imperials at every opportunity, but how long would it take? She couldn't doubt herself or think about the past or the far future. She had to remain in the moment and dashed her thoughts aside. The coordinates plotted, the Ghost jumped into hyperspace.

Now relatively safe from their enemy, the crew of the Ghost began to relax. Zeb went to his cabin and fell right to sleep. He had to share the cabin with Ezra, but the boy was with Kanan doing Jedi practice. It was rare chance for him to sleep alone and in peace. Hera stayed in the cockpit enjoying the relative quiet up there at the controls of her ship. For Sabine, with her new supplies, she was going back into her expressionist paintings. She drew inspiration from what was happening around her, and what was happening this time was watching Ezra and Kanan trying to use the Force to lift things. She watched from the platform above in the cargo bay as the two stood side by side one another, their right hands out, eyes closed with Kanan directing, "Clear your mind," he whispered. "Focus on the crate. Nothing else exists."

"Except maybe you talking," Ezra muttered. He tended to do that in the training talking it only half-seriously despite his desire to become a Jedi.

"No jokes" Kanan admonished. "Focus. Now...lift. With the Force, weight means nothing, size means nothing. Those who are in tuned with the Force can do almost anything." Kanan was focused on one of the crates they brought on board. He was right. He knew how to use the Force and slowly the crate lifted a few inches off the deck and then a little higher as he focused on it. Sabine leaned against the rail and watched with a thin smile as Kanan did this. Impressive as it was, Kanan didn't boast nor did he tell Ezra how high it was because it would throw off his concentration.

Ezra was Force Sensitive, but he didn't know how to focus his power. He was young, grew up on the streets. He was smart, but also immature not only with his powers but also being with others having been alone for so long. With his hand out, eyes closed, his mind was not clear. There were so many thoughts and emotions going through his young mind that he was struggling. After a couple of minutes Ezra was making no headway, the crate didn't even budge. The boy growled in frustration. Kanan placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and leaned in, "You got to focus. You need to think about the crate and only the crate. Push everything else in your mind out."

"That's not as easy as it sounds," Ezra sighed.

"I know. It takes practice. Everything takes practice. If you want to be a Jedi you're going to have a lot of struggles and failures, but failures are not defeats, they're defining moments."

Ezra turned to him and shrugged, "How are failures not defeats? Isn't that implied with the name?"

"No. How many times have we failed at something but weren't defeated?" Kanan stared back at him. "Defeat is when you give up, lose hope, and surrender to the darkness. Failure means there's another chance to start again where one chance ended."

"All right," Ezra nodded. Drawing a deep breath Ezra held out his hand and aimed it for the crate. Eyes closed he cleared his head and focused on the crate. Kanan said nothing and just watched as Ezra homed his thoughts and felt the energy of the Force flow through his body and were projected out towards that crate. He couldn't define what he was feeling doing it, but he could feel the warmth of the energy field around him. Though the crate weighed greatly, it began to wiggle. From her perch above Sabine saw this and her eyes widened slightly impressed at what she was seeing. Ezra continued to try, gritting his teeth, his hand tensed up but the crate slowly lifted, slowly and then it was off the ground by an inch, and it kept rising slowly. A great smile came to Kanan's face. He was doing it! Ezra was using the Force and the longer he focused the higher the crate went until it was near the top of the ship.

"That's it," Kanan whispered. "Now slowly placed it back down."

Ezra did so. He was in the moment, focused and tuning out everything around him. Hand out he could see the crate in his mind and feel the energy flow from the tips of his fingers. The crate slowly came down. Sabine watched it all even more impressed than before. For a boy that joined the crew as a street rat, he was learning and becoming better. If this kept up, he could match Kanan. But then something happened. Suddenly Zeb was there looking at the slowly descending crate that about a foot off the ground. "Wow, kid. How'd ya do that?" the Lasat exclaimed as his large yellow eyes watched the scene up close.

His concentration broken, Ezra's eyes opened and down came the crate with a crash that reverberated through the interior of the Ghost. Everyone who watched it flinched, turning away with their eyes tightly closed and groaned as the crate came down on Zeb's right foot. The Lasat screamed in agony and tried to draw his foot out, but the weight of the crate had him pinched. Ezra couldn't do anything about it so Kanan did and quickly lifted the crate allowing Zeb to slide his flattened foot out. Zeb howled and turned his anger towards Ezra, but he was in too much pain to go through with any pounding.

"Sorry, Zeb" Ezra sheepishly replied as Zeb limped out of the cargo hold.

Sabine chuckled as she lowered her head and shook it lightly. Ezra looked up at her and smiled. "Looks like I got something else to paint," Sabine smiled before leaving.

Watching her leave Ezra felt his heart sink, but then remembered, it wasn't a defeat, it was only a failed chance. There was always next time. "I think that will do with training today," said Kanan patting his pupil on the head. "I got to get to Zeb and tend to his foot. Probably flat as a pancake right now." He had only taken a couple of steps before Ezra stopped him with worry in his face. "What is it, kid?"

"When I lost my focus, it wasn't because of Zeb. It was the crates. The Force...the Force...it made me feel that there's something...sinister in these crates," said Ezra walking up to them and placing a hand on the cold, dark steel surface.

"Did you see what they were?" asked Kanan. He didn't doubt the boy had a vision, but knew that visions could be misinterpreted.

"I could feel cold and fear, great pain and anger, a cloud...a green cloud..." said Ezra. He struggled trying to come up with the right words to describe what were in them. "There is also a blinding light in them. I can't...I can't figure it out. I could hear people screaming in pain." He turned away almost driven to tears.

"It's all right, Ezra. But without the key we can't open these crates," Kanan grimaced looking at them.

"What if you use the Force?" Ezra lightly elbowed him in the ribs. "You think you can try that?"

"I've never done that before," Kanan replied with widened eyes. He had lifted and shoved things around with ease and persuaded the weak minded, but he had never used the Force to solve a puzzle. "First time for everything, I guess."

"Hey," Ezra smiled, "If you don't get it..."

"Yeah, I know, kid. It's not a defeat," his tutor groaned rolling his eyes.

"No. I was actually going to say, 'don't drop it on Zeb on purpose'," Ezra giggled.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Star Wars Rebels. They are owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. I did create a few characters, so those are mine. I have rated this one Mature for violence and adult themes. This takes place sometime in Season 2.

Zeb grunted as his foot was tended to. He was a tough Lasat, or at least that was what he was trying to put up with his large arms folded in front of his chest, the large yellow eyes staring down as Chopper tried to wrap a bandage around the foot. No broken bones, but he needed an application of Bacta. The warm gel quickly went to work and caused more pain than the crate did as Chopper tied the bandage nice and tight. "OW!" Zeb roared. "It doesn't have to be so tight!"

Chopper's small arms spun around with the droid taunting him in binary.

With a roar, Zeb grabbed the droid, "I'll show you 'big baby' when I rip out your insides!" He had a strong grip, but Chopper had his shocker and a quick zap freed him allowing the Astromech to scurry away with the limping Lasat in hot pursuit.

He brushed past Ezra whom was heading to the cockpit to remind Kanan it was time for their training. When the cockpit door slid open automatically, he saw the back of Hera's head as she sat in her seat enjoying the moment as the Ghost continued its long ride in hyperspace. Beside her, Kanan was restless in his eat. "It's...too easy," Kanan whispered as his eyes glared at the streaming blue and white light. "I know I should have thought on it, but, we needed the credits," his head lowered to stare blankly at the console. He was kicking himself. Jedi were supposed to be in tuned with their surroundings, and here, his senses failed him.

"I'll talk to Commander Sato," Hera nodded softly, "Perhaps he'll remember more about his *friend*" before her thin eyebrows buckled, "I don't know how busy he'll be dodging Imperial patrols, though."

Leaning back in his seat, straightening out his posture, Kanan's hands balled up tightly then released as he sighed, "Yeah, well, what kind of weapons factory would put their products in Cobalt Crates, anyway? Unless they're hiding something special inside them, Hera. I don't see that kind of security on any other kind of weapon, not even blasters or proton bombs." He leaned his body forward, hands before him clenched together so that his chin could rest on it, slowly drawn into a deep thought. For several minutes he pondered before realizing that Ezra was standing there waiting for him.

Nodding to him, Kanan stood up, "You ready?"

"Yeah!" Ezra exclaimed.

"All right," Kanan replied walking out, "Let's go to the cargo bay."

Ezra was excited. This was the one Jedi practice that he's always wanted to do; mind tricks. "The _Force_ flows through all things," said Kanan in the cargo bay, same site where Ezra *accidentally* dropped a Cobalt crate on Zeb's foot. Now the Lasat stood on the railings high above with Sabine, safe from harm. "When focused, it has a strong influence on the weak-minded. Doing mind-tricks is not for amusement. It's to get information or to allow for infiltration and escape," then stabbed a finger at Ezra, "It is not for personal amusement!"

"Okay! Okay!" Ezra smiled holding up both hands from his chest. "I promise; I won't use it for fun," behind his back his other hand had his fingers crossed. Since he saw Kanan use it before on Stormtroopers.

With a nod Kanan continued, "Not all species and people are going to be taken under your influence. Some have a natural ability to resist it, either they're _Force_ sensitive themselves, or their minds are so polluted that they can't be persuaded otherwise," folding his arms in front of his chest, trying to assert himself as Master to his new Padawan. "Now, trying to use it will leave you vulnerable, so be mindful of your surroundings."

Ezra paused for a moment then asked, "How long does it last?"

With a shrug of the shoulders, Kanan responded, "Depends on how much concentration you put into it," waving a hand, "It can last a few seconds or even hours, even days. But, that only comes from the great Jedi Masters, like Master Yoda. When the mind-trick wears off, most don't know what's happened or even that they were influenced. When they're under your control, you can make them do almost anything."

"Almost anything?" Ezra smirked.

His Master smiled then rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, "Yeah. See, they can't do something that they don't know how to do. You can't take a guy, some farmer, and tell him 'go fly that shuttle' and expect him to fly it. He doesn't know what to do at the controls," he paused and held up a hand, "But, if he's under the influence, and your connection to the _Force_ is strong, you can take control of him and use him to pilot the shuttle, passing your knowledge through him. It can also be used to interrogate prisoners. We can use the _Force_ to tap into their minds and recover memories, dreams, and ideas."

"Wow!" Ezra gasped. "How long till I learn how to do that?"

"Patience, my Padawan," Kanan smiled, "It will come with patience, understanding, and focus." Ezra pouted a bit. Those were the three words he used quite a bit, because Ezra lacked those. Having been on his own for years, he had to fend fend for himself, didn't know what tomorrow would bring or what his next meal would be unless he learned to be drastic and impulsive, but now, trying to become a Jedi Knight, he needed to learn to suppress his emotions, or else his emotions could cause him to be brash, reckless, and careless.

"I'll show you," said Kanan reassuringly, "I'll show you how it works. I just need an assistant," his bent left arm lifted his finger up to his chin where he gently tapped the skin looking up at the railing where Sabine and Zeb stood watching rather curiously until they realized they were being asked to help.

Sabine's eyes widened while stepping back from the rail, "Oh no no no no no no no."

"Oh, c'mon, Sabine" Ezra said with a smirk, "I promise to be gentle."

Sabine's eyes narrowed before tartly saying, "Yeah, well, don't take this the wrong way, kid, but I don't want you bouncing around inside of my head," placing a gloved finger to her temple, "I'd like to keep my private thoughts just that."

Disappointed he wouldn't be inside the Mandalorians head, Ezra's face fell, but came back slightly when looking up at the Lasat's big yellow eyes, "How about you then, Zeb?" asked Ezra. "Unless you're too scared?"

Zeb rolled his large yellow eyes, "Kid, I'm not scared, especially you."

"Well then," Ezra replied, "Shall we begin?"

"I'll begin" Kanan stepped in. Ezra sat on a crate to the left of the standing Lasat while Kanan stood before him with his hand held out. Though not a Jedi Knight, Kanan could still wield the _Force_ with impressive ways. "Now, I'll demonstrate on tapping into the mind of your target. You'll be confronted by distractions and meaningless thoughts. Every mind has them. You have to focus on your goal."

That sounded simple, but Ezra raised a hand, "How do I know what 'the goal' is?"

"Easy," said Kanan, "You listen to their thoughts and focus on what they think about the most. You'll learn how to weed out the non-essentials. It comes with everything else, you'll learn what you need and don't need through your senses," pausing for a moment, Kanan called down Sabine, "I want you to whisper something to Zeb. Anything. I'll give you time to think on other things, then, I'll go looking for it."

Zeb glanced at his friend then sighed. He had never done such training before and didn't know if it would hurt, but drawing a long breath he nodded as Sabine climbed down. He leaned to the side so that Sabine could whisper it into his ear before straightening out his posture while Kanan stepped far enough away, facing the bulkhead with his hands over his ears. A couple of minutes passed and Kanan calming walked back over and stood before Zeb with a thin smile and a nod, "Ready?"

"Just don't turn by brain inside out," Zeb sighed before closing his eyes.

"I promise, it won't hurt," Kanan said before closing his own eyes and holding out his right hand that stood inches away from Zeb's head. There was a tense silence as Ezra watched. There was no sound, then Zeb began to sway slightly, Kanan's closed eyes tightened, his fingers stretched to their limits before a grunt was heard then another. Sabine stood well away with her arms folded in front of her, but her eyes darted back and forth as the two figures stood poised. Kanan was weeding through Zeb's mind. There was so many thoughts that he was weaving through them, voices of many fellow Lasats calling for him-now long gone. Finally, he found it and when he did there was a flash and Zeb swayed.

"Catch him!" Sabine cried.

"I got him!" Ezra bolted from his seat and stood behind Zeb ready to catch, but Zeb's body began going forwards. Ezra raced around to the front and stood with his arms out and caught Zeb, but his weight was too much. ***WOMP!*** The impact even made Sabine turn away and wince.

Kanan staggered away, his head in the clouds. His mind was now filled with many of Zeb's memories. Shaking his head, he looked back to see Zeb slowly standing up, "You all right, big guy?"

"Yeah" Zeb groaned, then his eyes flashed open and he smiled, "You were right. It didn't hurt. I don't feel a thing!"

"Well, _I DID_!" Ezra coughed from the floor.

"Jogan fruit cake" Kanan said.

"What?" Sabine asked.

"Jogan fruit cake," Kanan smiled to her, "It was the first food you and Zeb stole together. An entire Jogan fruit cake from an Imperial officer's birthday party."

Zeb walked over to Sabine and smiled, "Hehe. Yeah. That guy wasn't going to miss it. We ate like kings that night," giving his female companion a high-five.

"We sure did," Sabine smiled, the fond memories rolling through her body.

"I was wondering what happened to that cake," Hera suddenly said from above. "I was going to steal it for myself and then it vanished, and so did you two," pointing at the two culprits who smiled and shrugged their shoulders.

"Finder's keepers!" Zeb laughed.


End file.
